


Change

by Jackie_Gaytona



Series: B-Sides and Rarities [2]
Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Finally a hug, M/M, Post Season 2, dribble drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25550731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackie_Gaytona/pseuds/Jackie_Gaytona
Summary: Little something I wrote at midnight. After the theater scene of the season 2 finale.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Series: B-Sides and Rarities [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851514
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	Change

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes...it's late and I just felt like writing something smol

The drive back to the house was quiet. Guillermo sat behind the wheel of the Flex, his expression stoic but for the gravity in his dark eyes. He watched the rest of Staten Island – pedestrians and bar patrons and motorists – go about their usual nightly routines beneath a heavy sky and misty rain. He felt a deep, chilling envy for them; to be able to socialize and play, work and study without any knowledge whatsoever of the city’s supernatural underground. Blood trickled into Guillermo’s eye, stinging and blurring his vision. He wiped it away with the back of his hand before it could entice tears, and then readjusted his glasses.

The moment he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, there was a flurry of movement and light whispers as the vampires tumbled out of the car, eager to distance themselves from the slayer; eager to welcome the solace of their normal, everyday surroundings. It was foolish to come back to the house, Guillermo considered as he locked the car and followed them inside. But where else could they go? Unless they felt like spending the night in the sewers, nowhere in the city offered the same protection from the sun and enemies that this dark, familiar house did.

He entered the foyer only to find it empty; the vampires having all disappeared into the shadows. He sighed and made his way to his little room, shrugging off his coat to pile just inside the curtain. He snatched up the first clean clothes he could find and went for a shower.

The searing hot water should have soothed him, but instead it made him ache even more. His neck stung with an angry gash that had only just stopped bleeding; there was a deep bite on his forearm – his assailant managed to cut fangs past the thick fabrics of his sleeves and into soft flesh. He had no recollection of when that had happened, or who the perpetrator had been. He was pretty sure he’d almost cracked a rib – his chest felt bruised, his breathing strained. Not to mention there were at _least_ half a dozen muscles in need of a deep rub, and his fists were red and puffy from too much punching.

_Don’t go there_ , he thought in dismay as a mental picture surfaced in his mind. He tilted his head back to let the water cascade over his face and seep into his shut eyes and drip down his neck. _Don’t think about him…_

But trying not to think about Nandor was like trying to stop the rain. And the little motion picture in his head was teasing him with scenes of the vampire massaging his aches, kissing his raw knuckles, and gently swabbing antiseptic cream into his wounds. Soft hands. Scratchy beard. A thankful smile. _You saved us, Guillermo. We owe you our lives_.

Guillermo stifled a derisive snort, but his cheeks heated up at the notion of Nandor actually being _grateful_ for once. Best-case scenario, Nandor would commend himself for helping Guillermo fight off the vampires simply by instructing him during the massacre; worse-case scenario, Guillermo would be driven out of the house by four ropable, keyed-up vampires who wanted _nothing_ to do with the human who just slaughtered a theatre full of vampiric elitists and who now had a massive flashing target on his head.

He was already planning his departure as he stepped out of the shower. He could go stay with his mom again for now, but would that put her in danger? How long could he afford to stay at a hotel while he looked for a new day job and an apartment? Would the vampires be okay – and safer – without him? Or should he pack bags for all of them and take them somewhere secret; somewhere more secure? _Where_? Nothing would come to mind. Maybe he should ask his housemates their thoughts, if they were willing to listen.

Nandor…

Guillermo let out a soft growl and shook his head, exasperated with himself. He couldn’t let feelings get in the way while he mapped all of this out. He had to be practical; their lives were in danger. His adrenaline was still running at full bore when he took his soiled clothes into the laundry and, through the haze of tiny raindrops and caked dust on the window, saw that the back porchlights were glowing. He dumped his clothes into the sink and cautiously made his way outside. The cold, still air felt good on his face, as did the gentle caresses of raindrops. By the back gate, seated on the low brick fence, was a hunched, unmistakable figure. Guillermo’s heart leapt into his throat. Part of him wanted to turn tail and leave the vampire be, but the other part was drawn in by his eyes: two golden, glinting orbs set within a featureless silhouette. Nandor was watching him.

Guillermo’s legs didn’t give his brain the chance to reconsider. Within moments he was striding towards the vampire – as confidently as one who was wearing nothing but a singlet and pair of boxers beneath a dressing robe could – and then suddenly they were face to face. Pale ambient light leached down over Nandor’s features, painting his skin a deathly blue and leaving the rest of him swathed in black; save for his preternatural eyes.

Those eyes regarded him as Guillermo took a shuddery breath. “Nandor,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Guillermo,” Nandor said back, stronger. His face was impassive except for a slightly furrowed brow that indicated puzzlement, and…defeat? Guillermo felt those all-too-familiar tendrils of disquiet creep up his legs and into his stomach.

They looked at each other for a long time, neither speaking. The night seemed to fall silent with them, as if too afraid to make a single sound in this suddenly fragile environment. Guillermo hardly noticed, though. The roar of blood in his ears and the thundering of his heart more than made up for the lack of noise everywhere else. No doubt Nandor was tuning into that familiar frequency, too.

The vampire opened his mouth to say something, and then thought the better of it. Guillermo racked his brains for something to say to ease the tension, but his anxiety had wiped his thoughts clean.

“You came back,” Nandor finally noted. It wasn’t said in a dreamy, appreciative way like Guillermo’s foolish mind would have dreamed; he was simply stating a fact. His tone left a bitter taste in Guillermo’s mouth.

“I actually came back for the bar fridge,” he explained, clearing his throat when his voice came out a stupid squeak.

Nandor glanced over Guillermo’s shoulder, towards the house, and then back at him. Again, his voice was unmodulated. “Did you get it?”

Guillermo opened his mouth but balked. Was that a backhanded request to leave? If so, he wasn’t going to take the hint; he could be just as obstinate as his master if need be. He lifted his chin. “I saw the invitation and noticed the Vampire Council’s insignia on it, so I came to rescue you all.”

He was expecting some kind of riposte at that; some kind of assurance from Nandor that they had _not_ needed his help and that they were perfectly capable of looking after themselves, thank you very much. To his surprise, Nandor said nothing. His shoulders just sagged more, and he continued look at his familiar, eyes darting down and up his body, over his face, at his clothes, at his hair, at his glasses…what was he looking for? What did he see?

And then it hit him. Guillermo hadn’t yet considered the implications of tonight’s events, and what they meant for the relationships he’d forged with these vampires over the years. He had been too intent on saving them that he didn’t weigh how much this would change the dynamics of the household. The pecking order had been completely rearranged within a matter of minutes, and Nandor was no longer at the top. Nandor had _always_ been at the top.

It dawned on him just then, what Nandor was fighting with internally: allow Guillermo to take some control over his life, over his duties as a familiar – if he even _wanted_ to be a familiar now; allow him to have equal standing with the vampires. Or drive him out…the familiar he’d lived with and stood by and _cared_ about for over a decade. The familiar who loved him more than anything; who would _give_ him anything. The familiar who would gladly die for him.

Guillermo felt the sudden sting of tears, and he swallowed hard. “Things don’t need to change,” he whispered.

Nandor grunted and rolled his eyes. It was the first time he’d torn them away from Guillermo, and now he couldn’t bring himself to look at him again. “Things already have,” he said glumly, staring down at his lap. The rain made a tiny halo of droplets in his hair, which glittered blue in the percolating moonlight. Guillermo found himself reaching for that hair, and brushing it away from Nandor’s face, unable to stop himself.

And that’s when he realized that Nandor was right: things had changed. The Guillermo before tonight would have never found the courage to brush the back of his hand down Nandor’s cheek. Old Guillermo never would have had the courage to cup the vampire’s jaw in his hand and graze his thumb over that silky beard. And had Nandor slipped a cautious arm around his back just yesterday, Guillermo would have jumped at the shock and stuttered and turned bright red. He wouldn’t have so eagerly, so completely sagged against Nandor’s chest and wrapped his arms around him, as though it were the most natural thing on earth to do.

No…things weren’t the same.

Guillermo let out a shaky breath, and in response Nandor tightened his grip around his familiar, pulling him closer, until Guillermo was surrounded by his warm clothes and his scent and his protection.

“Nandor?” he murmured; his voice muffled as he nuzzled the vampire’s chest.

“Yes?” Nandor grumbled.

“Not all changes are bad.”


End file.
